The USS Gauntlet rises like a massive mountain of metal through the isles of stars on the black abyssal. She voyages en route to home. In the far reaches of the sector near broken debris of asteroids making up a small ring system in the area. Three crafts lurk past the field apparent that they are evading radar detection.
The bridge of the Gauntlet has several crewman running with their jump suites to designated positions while coming into the new sector. The radar station begins scanning for anything, apparently finding something faint.
[Radar]: Comms, radar, we detect three crafts starboard at a range of one-five-fix hundred kilometers.”
[Communications]: Radar, comms, we recieve your detection... (over radio) This is the starship Gauntlet in bound the Quinos sector. Craft identify yourself, over.
The room recieves no reply after several minutes of trying.
[Captain Hayes]: General sir, long range sensors have detected several crafts starboard by the Quinos Belt. We have requested a comms link but no success, sir.
[General Sprint]: Odd, this far out of the Outer Rim territories? Captain, wait for our range to shorten and request identification. Flyby the belt.
The Gauntlet slightly makes a navigational detour toward the small astroid belt. Range closing fast. The navigation officers begin planning their next trajectory and input it to the ship’s SISTER computer databank. Meanwhile on Hangar Bay 13...
[Major Recco]: All’ight sweethearts, move like ya got a purpose.
The new bunch of privates onboard has raised a disturbance with the veteran crew members. The privates scramble beginning their duties.
[Corporal Fel]: You, you, you head to the armory with me, cleaning detail gents.
[Corporal Vindel]: You, yes you don’t look at me like I’m talking to the man next to you, get your ass on that loader and stow that shit in bay 23. God damnit people we got two, I say again two hours.
The bridge crew continues to do their daily jobs, running the ship’s functions. The navigators, easy maneuver the ship toward the belt. The scan officer picks up the craft on active LIDAR. Communications finally establish a transmission, an officer runs to Captain Hayes to deliver the message.
[Hayes]: Sir, the crafts says they are on a deep mining survery. Out of... Epsilon Theta VI.
[Sprint] This far out? Where’s their command ship? (thinks when hearing the location)
Sprint goes over to some navigational readouts and taps the screen, punching up several charts, shaking his head then zeroing in on what he was looking for. The star system is 23 light years from the Alpha Omicron system.
[Sprint]: Stand by to go to battle alert. I got a feeling we found some legionnaire prisoners. Send out the ISST
The crafts come about and out of the astroid belt, nearing the massive metal ship for what seems a routine inspection. The laser turrets turn and focus their attention on the crafts. A long shuttle like ship from the underbelly of the Gauntlet comes out and thrusts towards the ships. Two of the crafts being vessels picking up on whats happening out manuever the ship scattering into the belt. The remaining craft being a fighter tries to fire at the approaching ship, a single fourty-kilowatt blast from the laser turrets renders the fighter helpless. The ISST (Inter Star System Transport) slowly docks with the fighter slowly towing her back to the ship.
[Sprint]: (intercom) Sprint to Hangar Bay Thirteen, Recco we have a prisoner coming onboard head to Flight Deck 24 and secure him.
[Recco]: (pressing intercom) Recco, here. Understood sir.
A marine security team marches to the airlock at the hangar bay. Several marines armed with M41A2 hold their rifles ready. Two technicians come down with the commander of the vessel. The man stands rather tall in his flight suit, his helmet on and with his blast vision gard down.
[Marine CO]: Remove that helmet.
A marine unstraps the helmet to the prisoner, revealing a dark haired individual with a large scar across his face. Brendle Rawne.
[Marine CO] Take him to Cryogenic Room Nine. Freeze him.
Brendle Rawne along with his marine escorts leave the deck, the deals sealing shut behind them. Corporal Eduardo in Cryogenic Room Nine presses consoles activating a fresh chamber. Back on the bridge Captain Heyes looks over navigation charts
[Heyes]: Our best bet would be past the XKX-319 gravitic mass. The black hole would shed about two weeks off our voyages.
[Sprint]: Allright Captain, exercise extreme safety in and use protocol. If we appear anywhere within fifty thousand kilometers of that event horizon I want full engines at max G to pull us out. Understood?
[Hayes]: Aye General.
[Sprint]: (shakes his head) Do I look like a fucking sailor?
Sprint walks off the bridge and proceeds to head to his office. Hayes looks at him a bit at a glance then continues to direct orders for safety around the black hole.